


Reindeer Sweaters and Mannequins

by yerawizardlani



Series: Holiday Series [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:01:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2686970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yerawizardlani/pseuds/yerawizardlani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavia and Raven drag Clarke to Macy's on Black Friday, but trouble ensues when they get separated. Thankfully Bellamy is there in a tacky reindeer sweater to save the day. Companion piece to Turkey and Moonshine, but can be read separate. Part of the Holiday Series</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reindeer Sweaters and Mannequins

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I got a lot of positive response to Turkey and Moonshine, so I decided to write a Black Friday piece. I hope you guys enjoy!

Clarke woke to banging on her door. Groaning, she opened her eyes, only to shut them when the grey light of dawn hit her like an icepick in the eye. She shoved her head into the pillow and prayed to any god listening for the pain in her skull to stop. The pounding on the door continued. Clarke turned in her bed and spotted a glass of water and two Advil waiting on the bedside table. She grabbed for the pills and quickly shoved them in her mouth, chugging down the entire glass in an attempt to rid herself of the cotton on her tongue. A note fluttered to the ground, and Clarke grasped for it, pulling it close to read.

Princess,

Try not to let my sister bully you too much today.

Bellamy

At that moment, Octavia came bursting through Clarke's bedroom door, looking far too perky for a girl who drank more moonshine than everyone else combined the night before. Clarke narrowed her eyes.

"Go away," she growled at her friend. Octavia beamed.

"Sorry Clarke," she chirped, "But we had a deal, and now it's time for you to come shopping with me." Clarke raised her wrist to glance at her father's old watch and collapsed back into the pillow, pulling the blankets over her head.

"It's six in the morning. We went to bed at like…two. How are you awake right now?" Octavia chuckled, tugging the blankets away from a protesting Clarke.

"Blakes are immune to hangovers," Octavia explained, "Now come on let's go!" Clarke sat up groggily, her head pounding at the sudden movement.

"I hate you," she whispered, standing. Suddenly, her stomach gave a heave and Clarke rushed to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time to choke up the remnants of turkey and moonshine in her stomach. It burned on its way up, and the world span. Clarke closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the cool porcelain.

"I think I'm still a little drunk," she admitted, "Can't we go shopping another day? Any other day?"

"Sorry, Clarke, but the best sales are today," Octavia said, and Clarke could hear the amused smirk, "We're going." Clarke opened one eye to glare at her friend, who was leaning against the doorway with a smug look that reminded Clarke way too much of Bellamy for comfort.

Clutching her sore stomach, Clarke raised herself up and reached for her toothbrush. After thoroughly cleaning the bad taste from her mouth, she turned to face Octavia.

"I'm going to take a shower," she told her friend, "Go pick out an outfit for me to wear." Octavia clapped her hands in glee and left before Clarke could second guess the wisdom of allowing her friend to dress her for the day. With a shrug, Clarke shed her clothes and turned the shower to steaming. The grime of the previous day clung to her like a second skin, and Clarke could practically smell the alcohol eking out of her pores. She needed a long, hot shower to scrub away the hangover, but judging by Octavia's impatience, Clarke was going to have to settle for a relatively short shower at the hottest temperature she could stand.

Stepping under the spray, Clarke hissed as the hot water beat at her back, turning her fair skin pink. The hot water stung in a way that made Clarke's muscles relax slightly. She quickly scrubbed away all of the dirt and sweat from the other day, trying not to remember the feel of Bellamy's arms as they'd danced together. She had a feeling that Octavia would not thank her if they missed out on a deal just because Clarke had been too busy imagining Octavia's brother in the shower. Once she felt slightly more human, Clarke switched off the water and stepped out, wrapping herself in a large, fluffy towel.

She padded back into her room where Octavia had laid out the clothes that she was to wear that day. Clarke took one look at the clothes and growled.

"OCTAVIA!" she yelled. Octavia poked her head in, a picture of innocence.

"Yes?" she asked, her expression carefully blank. Clarke pointed at the dress in front of her.

"It is at least 20 degrees outside right now, and you want me to walk around in that?" Clarke hissed. That in question was a fitted maroon dress that came down to mid-thigh on Clarke on a good day. Even with its long sleeves, it definitely did not make the list of Clarke-approved clothing for late November in New York City. It had snowed yesterday for heaven's sake! Octavia shrugged.

"Wear leggings," she suggested, "But you're wearing it. I also laid out a lovely little sweater for you to keep you warm." Clarke rolled her eyes, but she recognized the stubborn tilt of Octavia's chin, and Clarke was still in no condition to but heads with a Blake this early in the morning, so with a sigh, she pulled a pair of thick, warm leggings out of a drawer and started getting dressed.

It was barely 7am when Clarke finally met Octavia's standards of "ready," and by then Clarke was ready to give up on the whole venture. She hated crowds, she hated mobs, and most of all she hated shopping. There was nothing remotely appealing to her about getting up at the crack of dawn for a Black Friday sale, but Octavia seemed convinced that they should go, and Octavia was a force of nature.

Clarke shuffled after Octavia, barely cognizant as her friend shoved her into a taxi. She tuned into their surroundings as the taxi let them out and she was forced to step onto the pavement. She was greeted by the sight of hundreds of people crowded outside of Macy's.

"Really, O?" she groaned, "Macy's? It'll be a nightmare in there." Octavia shrugged.

"Where's your sense of adventure, Clarke?" she asked, smiling. Clarke rolled her eyes and crossed her arms to conserve body heat, grateful for her coat.

"It's still in bed," she grumbled. At that moment, a voice called out their names. Clarke looked up to see Raven shoving her way through the crowd, carrying three cups of coffee.

"Morning," Raven greeted as she finally reached them. She took one look at Clarke and held out the coffee. "I got you peppermint mocha," she told Clarke, who reached for the coffee like it was water in the desert.

"You're a goddess," Clarke told her, taking a long sip of the coffee, which did quick work in warming her up. Raven shrugged.

"I know," she said, offering the other cup to Octavia, who gladly accepted. The three sipped at their cups in silence for a few moments, before Octavia decided enough rest.

"Alright, now that the gang's all here, and Clarke's halfway toward being human again," Clarke glared playfully at her friend at that comment, "let's get this party started, shall we?" Reluctantly, Clarke followed as Octavia began shoving her way through the crows. The youngest Blake had a talent for making people get out of her way, and Clarke did her best to stay close, wary of getting lost in a crowd like this. Her heart pounded as strangers shoved passed her, invading her personal space. She'd gotten somewhat used to crowds when she moved to the city, but this was something else entirely. It made her pulse race.

They finally reached the inside of the store and the crowd only got worse. Clarke focused on keeping her breathing steady as she followed Octavia and Raven while the other two women fought for deals. She stayed close, but she avoided touching anything in the store, wary of getting pulled into the violence that sprung up anytime anyone grabbed anything.

"Aren't you going to get something?" Raven asked her after a few hours of shopping. Clarke shook her head.

"Clarke finished her Christmas shopping months ago," Octavia explained to Raven, "She's boring like that." Raven raised her eyebrows. Clarke shrugged.

"I hate shopping," she explained, "I mostly do it online." Raven frowned.

"Then why are you here?" she asked. Clarke shrugged.

"Octavia asked me," she explained. The conversation dropped, and the other two returned to their hunt.

Clarke broke into a cold sweat when she looked up and realized that Octavia and Raven had vanished into the crowd. She stood on her tiptoes, fighting to see them over the crowd, but even on her toes Clarke wasn't tall enough to see much. She called their names, hoping that one of them would hear her, but the noise in the store was on top volume. She didn't get a reply. Clarke backed away, hoping to find someplace she could hide out until the madness died down. There was a mannequin display pressed close to the wall, and Clarke quickly ducked behind it, trying to steady her breathing.

With shaking hands, she dug her phone from her purse and dialed Octavia's number. She waited as the phone rang.

"Come on, pick up," she whispered. No luck. The phone went to voicemail. Clarke groaned. She tried Raven's cell. Same result. Clarke cursed. This was just her luck, getting lost in Macy's on Black Friday. With a sigh, Clarke dialed the one other number that she knew would help her. Her heart pounded as she listened to the phone ring, waiting for the other line to pick up.

"Clarke?" the voice came on the other line, "Aren't you supposed to be shopping with my sister right now?" Clarke breathed a sigh of relief.

"Bellamy," she shouted over the noise of the store. "I need your help!"

"What's wrong? Is Octavia okay?" Bellamy asked, going into protective brother mode. Clarke rolled her eyes.

"Octavia's fine," she promised, "Or at least I'm pretty sure she is. I kind of lost her and Raven in Macy's." Bellamy chuckled.

"You lost them?" he teased. Clarke scowled.

"Don't laugh," she ordered, "It isn't funny. I'm trapped behind a mannequin on the scariest shopping day of the year. Help!" She could practically hear him rolling his eyes at her.

"Alright, Princess," he sighed, "Hang tight. I'll come find you." Clarke breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

"Thank you," she said.

"Yeah, don't mention it," he ordered, "I'll be there in a couple minutes, what floor are you on?"

"Second," she told him, "I'm near the women's shoes, behind the mannequin wearing a fur coat."

"Okay, I'll see you then," he said, and the line went dead. Clarke tucked her phone back into her purse and slid down against the wall, curling herself into a small ball. She never should have let Octavia talk her into this. Clarke had never done well with crowds. She wasn't confident like Raven, or brave like Octavia. She stuck to her comfort zone. And her comfort zone was large medical tomes and art supply stores. She'd considered going to medical school like her mother, but the idea of having someone else's life in her hands terrified her. In the end, she'd gone with her love of art. Now she worked as an assistant curator at the Met, volunteering at her mother's clinic when she could. It was the best of both worlds.

Clarke focused on keeping herself calm as she waited for Bellamy to arrive, counting the number of red shoes that passed by her as she waited. She'd counted to thirty before Bellamy poked his head around the mannequin, looking considerably ruffled from the crowd. He grinned down at her.

"Found you, Princess," he greeted her. Clarke jumped up and threw herself at Bellamy, hugging him close. She tried to ignore the way she was trembling. Bellamy wrapped her up, understanding as always.

"It's okay," he whispered in her ear, "You did good, Princess. You're safe." Clarke nodded, her face still buried in Bellamy's shoulder. Gradually, she loosened her grip on him, breathing slightly easier. He smiled as she let him go.

"Ready to battle our way through this madness?" he asked. Clarke grinned, feeling better now that she had another person with her.

"Let's do it," she agreed. Bellamy took her hand in his and led her through the crowd, elbowing people out of his way, and leading her to the escalators. There were too many people on the escalators to fight past, so Bellamy tugged Clark close, keeping one arm around her as they waited. Clarke leaned into him. He was wearing the same scarf from last night, and his usual leather jacket, but she recognized the sweater underneath as one that she'd given him two years ago as a joke. It was covered in reindeers, and Bellamy had joked that it looked like Prancer had thrown up on the damn thing. She smiled knowingly at the sweater. He always wore it during the holidays to avoid hurting her feelings, and Clarke got a kick every time she saw him in it: big, bad Bellamy in a tacky reindeer sweater.

The escalator finally reached the bottom, and Clarke could see the doors ahead. This time, she was the one tugging at Bellamy, elbowing her way through the crowds in a hurry to get outside where she could finally breathe. They were almost at the doors when someone accidentally elbowed Clarke in the eye, knocking her onto the ground. Bellamy swore as he immediately went to help her up, trying to keep her from being trampled. Clarke quickly scrambled to her feet before Bellamy could help, touching the spot where the man had elbowed her. It felt tender, and Clarke hissed as she pressed down. That was bound to leave a bruise. The man who'd hit her had disappeared from sight, which Clarke thought was probably a lucky thing considering the look on Bellamy's face right now. She didn't have the money to bail anyone out of jail tonight. Bellamy examined her carefully, tugging her hand away form her eye to get a closer look.

"It's fine, Bellamy," she assured him, "It's just a bruise. Let's just get out of here before someone else gets injured." Bellamy looked uncertain, and she could practically hear his guilty thoughts as he blamed himself for her bruise. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm a big girl, Bell," she told him, "It's not your fault if I get hurt." He opened his mouth to argue, but Clarke sent him a glare. Finally he nodded, leading her out of the store without any more mishaps. When they finally cleared the crowds, Clarke breathed a sigh of relief.

"Where to, Princess?" Bellamy asked. Clarke shrugged.

"All I want now is to go home and pig out on leftovers," she admitted. Bellamy smiled.

"I think that can be arranged," he agreed holding out a hand to hail a cab. "Besides," he said as a cab pulled up, "We need to get some ice on that eye." Clarke nodded, following him into the cab. On their way home, Clarke's phone started ringing. She glanced at the caller ID. Octavia.

"Hey," she answered.

"Are you alright?" Octavia asked, "We've been looking everywhere for you." Clarke sighed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered. "I called your brother to come pick me up."

"Oh thank god," Octavia breathed, "Honestly, Clarke, I'm so sorry. I know you must've been frantic. I didn't even see that you had called until just now." Someone tapped Clarke's shoulder, and she glanced over. Bellamy held his hand out, silently asking for the phone.

"It's fine, O," she assured her friend, "Hang on, Bellamy wants to talk with you." She handed the phone over.

"Octavia what the hell were you thinking?' he growled, "Why the hell would you leave Clarke alone in Macy's on Black Friday of all days?" There was a pause as Bellamy listened to Octavia's defense before he shook his head.

"I don't care, O," he told his sister, "You know better. Clarke was hiding behind a mannequin when I found her." He listened as Octavia spoke, nodding his head.

"Yeah, okay," he said finally, "I'll see you back at the apartment." Another silence.

"Love you, too, O," he smiled, before hanging up the phone and handing it back to Clarke. Clarke glared at him.

"I don't need you to yell at Octavia for me," she told him, "she feels bad enough without you making her feel worse." Bellamy frowned.

"Good," he told her, "she should feel bad. She's your friend, and she knows how you are around crowds. She should never have made you come along, much less abandoned you in that store." Clarke rolled her eyes.

"She's Octavia," Clarke told him, "She doesn't always think about these things, and you know she didn't mean to lose track of me. Besides, I'm a grown woman and perfectly able to say no to things that make me uncomfortable." Clarke glared at him, daring him to contradict her, "I made the choice to come out with her today, and that was no one's choice but my own." Bellamy's lips twitched into a smile as he looked at her fondly.

"You're right," he agreed, "Maybe I should've yelled at you," Clarke smiled, recognizing the teasing lilt in his voice, and feeling the tension drain out of her.

"Not like that's ever done you much good," she pointed out. Bellamy laughed, tugging her into a hug and kissing her head.

"Brave princess," he murmured into her hair, "You're too stubborn for your own good." Clarke smiled, deciding to let the nickname slide.

They reached the apartment and Clarke paid the cab driver, ignoring Bellamy's protests that they should at least split the cab fare.

"You already rescued me once today," she told him, "The least I can do is cover transportation costs."

They made their way upstairs and Clarke instructed Bellamy to sit down on the couch while she went and got some ice for her eye. Clarke went into the kitchen and grabbed ice from the freezer, wrapping it in a towel and pressing it to the injured point. Her hangover from before had mostly disappeared, but the throbbing in her head had intensified with this new injury. Clarke let out a breath in relief as the ice numbed the pain somewhat. She should probably take some painkillers later on, but for now the ice would suffice. She busied herself with digging out yesterday's leftovers one-handed and fixing her and Bellamy turkey sandwiches using turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. She made sure to put extra cranberry sauce on Bellamy's. She brought out the sandwiches and plopped down next to Bellamy on the couch, handing him the food.

Bellamy smiled at her before diving into his sandwich, humming contentedly.

"God, these get better every year," he moaned. Clarke tried to ignore the way that one sound made her stomach clench. Instead, she took a bite of her own sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. They ate in silence.

"Want to watch a movie?" she suggested eventually. Bellamy shrugged.

"Sure," he agreed with a smile, "Why not?" Clarke grinned mischievously. She knelt down by the entertainment center, digging through the titles to find the one she wanted. Finally, she pulled it out, holding the movie up.

"To go with your sweater," she teased. Bellamy threw his head back and groaned.

"I knew I should've burned this sweater," he grumbled. Clarke grinned. She slipped Prancer into the blu-ray player and rejoined him on the couch, leaning into his shoulder as she kept the ice pressed to her eye. It was a good day.


End file.
